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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692271">Brightside</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoukalay/pseuds/Kyoukalay'>Kyoukalay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Angst, Oneshot, Post Unwound Future, happy end, little hurt/comfort, rated mature for implications</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:15:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoukalay/pseuds/Kyoukalay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emmy tries to break Bronev out of jail, believing that she would be truly alone otherwise. The professor catches Emmy and tries to talk some sense into her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emmy Altava/Hershel Layton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Brightside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The rain poured down, a flash of light brightening the cold streets of London. Two breaths chasing each other. A thunder followed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Wait!’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t wait. She didn’t stop to breathe. She kept on running, afraid what would happen if she halted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Emmy please!’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did he call after her? Why did he run? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’No!’’ she called back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rounded another corner and felt her chest clench. A dead end. She turned in the hope that she would make it in time. But alas. There he was, out of breath as well, his tophat dripping from the rain, frustration in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Finally.’’ he grumbled, his voice low.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She backed against the wall and felt her body tremble. It wasn’t that she was scared of him. Oh no, she would never be. She was afraid of what he would say. About the consequences of her actions. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>tried to break out her uncle after all. She had tried and failed. The moment she saw the professor and met with his eyes, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go through with her plan. She was caught. Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the Targent henchmen who had been there to kill her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Please...don’t run away from me.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice sounded desperate. But why?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I’m not…’’ she returned. ‘’Not anymore.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moments passed and she suddenly found herself inside his flat. No longer in the icy rains or in the cold prison. No longer alone, but together with him in his cozy home. She didn’t know where the time went or for how long she had tapped out, but she was here now, seated on his couch. She looked up and found him pacing through the room with whispers on his lips. She couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, but it sounded something along the lines of ‘’...no longer…’’ and ‘’...here now…’’. He looked strange without his top hat. Professor Hershel Layton that is. The man she had worked for all those years ago undercover as his assistant. She had been a spy, working for her uncle...the only person she had left now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wondered why he had taken the precious memento off? He had always made such a fuss about it before, but now he had quickly placed it near the fireplace on the other side of the room. She understood that he wanted it dry, but still… She could feel her own clothes stick to her skin. Her arm felt warm in contrast, but she knew why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Let me take a look at that.’’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like he was reading her mind. His voice was still so warm and deep. She had always loved hearing him ramble on in his lectures. Always loved hearing him accuse those who were in the wrong. With that amazing voice of his. She remembered the shock she saw in his eyes when he saw her again. It had reminded her of the same shock she saw all those years ago, when the moment had arrived to betray him. She had always kind of prided herself in the ability to fool him, but that seemed like such shallow pride now. It meant nothing. She tried to unbutton her blouse with shaky hands, but failed more than she wanted to admit. It didn’t take long before she felt his calloused, warm hands over hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I’ll do it.’’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was barely a whisper. He unbuttoned the last few and pushed the stained, white blouse off of her shoulders. The lower part of her arm had become spotted with red from the blood. She remembered almost nothing from the fight she had during her struggle to escape, but she remembered the Targent spy that cut her right before she had gotten to Bronev.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I was so close.’’ she mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’You really were.’’</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>His focus fell on the cut in her arm. It didn’t look like it was a deep cut, but he treated it anyway. Emmy stayed silent during all of it, her eyes stuck to the ground. He wasn’t completely sure if he should tell Chelmey about it all, but for now he figured she needed some time to figure things out. He hadn’t heard from Emmy Altava in such a long time... It was strange to see her again. He finished wrapping the bandage around her arm and made sure it was kept in place with a bandaid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’There. That should do it.’’ he said with a small smile, hoping she would reciprocate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t though. Her gaze was kept firmly on the ground. He placed one hand on hers and squeezed it softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Emmy?’’</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>She could feel her heart race in her chest. Not only had he taken off his tophat, now he was also showing her physical affection? Who was this person? And what had he done with the emotionally distant professor Layton that she knew. The one that wouldn’t even reciprocate a farewell hug when she desperately needed it… She moved her head upwards and met his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Professor, why are you doing this?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again after a few sounds of hesitation left him. She looked at him, waiting for an answer that she didn’t want to hear. Did he pity her? Probably. Did he wish to stop her? Of course he did. She sighed when no answer came and removed her hand from his grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’This is pointless. I’m going.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She moved her blouse up again and got up from the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’No. Wait.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt that same warm hand grab her wrist before she could walk away. She turned to him with a frown, surprised inwardly that he looked so sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Please...don’t go.’’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again but a hush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Professor, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Pretend?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’To care…’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her figure had started to shake. She wanted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Why would I pretend to care?’’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice sounded so genuine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Because...you don’t.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried to pull her wrist free, but his grip only got tighter. With a pull, she was turned around and once again facing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I care.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was even lower than before, the sad look in his eyes replaced with something resembling fire. She choked. She couldn’t think of a retort. Nothing to say back. He felt so different, yet entirely the same. The man she admired. The man she…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I have no one left. I’m all alone.’’ she spoke up, her voice increasing in volume and desperation with every word. ‘’You don’t understand what it’s like to...to have no one.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze grew dark for a moment, almost as if he absolutely understood what it felt like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Bronev was always there for me...I… He’s the only one that cares!’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let go of her wrist and placed his hand on her cheek. His eyes had grown sympathetic and soft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Emmy...I have never stopped caring about you.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could feel something well up inside her. Something close resembling tears. She wanted to push his hand away and flee, but at the same time, she wanted nothing more than to have him finally wrap his arms around her. Like she had wanted all those years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’You...You’re lying.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt pathetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I’m not.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another flash past through the dark sky, lighting up the dimly lit room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’...really?’’</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Her voice sounded so timid. So small. He wasn’t sure if he could hug her, even if he really wanted to. When had he started to feel this...close to Emmy? She had always been a friend and capable assistant all those years ago, but this almost intimate feeling. The urge to hold her close. To never let her go again. Where did it come from? Was it because...he had been able to let go of Claire?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Will you stay?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried averting her gaze, but he held onto her chin so she wouldn’t be able to look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Please?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Al...right.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A surge of something warm tingled in his chest. They returned to the couch together and sat down in silence for a moment. He should probably offer her something to change into. Something warm and dry. He inwardly cursed at himself for not proposing it sooner. What was happening to him? His usual gentlemanly self seemed to be waning. He felt something pull at his sleeve. He turned to her and was surprised when he suddenly felt a pair of cold lips on his. The kiss was too brief and too timid. He didn’t have any time to process it or even return the affection. When she moved back, flushed cheeks and mellow eyes came into view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Thank you...for caring.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was at loss for words. The indescribable feeling from before had turned into something entirely describable. Something he wanted to return and tell her about as quickly as possible. She was about to say something else, her mouth opening and air escaping her lips, when he moved forward and kissed her back. A small sound of surprise stuttered in the back of her throat. It took a moment before they parted again. They stared at each other, neither knowing what to say or what to do. Hershel once again placed his hand on her cheek and caressed it softly. Who would have thought? That only months after his second separation from Claire, his goodbye to Luke, his distancing from Flora...that he would run into her again. Like someone was telling him it was alright. He was allowed to be happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Hershel…’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart skipped a beat. She had never called him by his name before. Only ever his title. It felt...strange but not unpleasant. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Everything had changed. Her emotions felt like they had been released from the encased prison she had been keeping them in. Her body suddenly felt so warm, her head so full, her heart brimming with everything. Why had she never considered this an option? To return to his side. To tell him how she really felt. Why she had acted the way she did. She should have kissed him long ago. But, she couldn’t change the past. She abruptly got up from her spot on the couch and took a few steps into the living room. She needed to tell him at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Emmy?’’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned around and took a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Hershel...I have been in love with you ever since I met you.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cheeks darkened in colour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’S-since we met?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Yep.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emmy crossed her arms over her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I just...didn’t think you would ever reciprocate so...that’s why… I choose Bronev back then.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Oh…’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emmy gulped. What was he going to say? She felt like a teenager again, confessing to her crush on the school parking lot. Hopefully this time, she wouldn’t get laughed at, at least. Hershel had gotten up from the couch in the meantime and took a place in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I wish I had known…’’ he mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Would it have made a difference?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scratched the back of his neck and frowned, probably wondering the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I’m not sure. Back then...I still had some repressed feelings myself.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’What about now?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes met again, a spark making her shiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Now…’’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’I think…’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed it softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’There is definitely something there.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Something?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Yes…’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved in closer and pressed his forehead against hers. Emmy was sure that her heart would burst. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’May I kiss you again?’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opened her eyes, realising now that she closed them to relish in the feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Yeah… I would like that.’’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned in, gracing her with that amazing feeling once more. She inhaled sharply and let her body fall against him. How was he so warm? She could feel his hand weave through her hair and his arm wrap around her to pull her closer. By doing so, he deepened the kiss. She had not felt this wonderful in a long </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> time.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The next morning, Emmy woke up to the sound of birds. She grimaced a little, feeling a dull pain in her arm. She turned on her back and wondered why the sheets felt so soft against her skin. They felt silky and of good quality, unlike the fabric she was used to. But why could she feel them so clearly. She opened her eyes and stared up at the red ceiling above her. Red? She frowned. Her flat didn’t have a red ceiling. She turned her head and realised that she was indeed not in her own flat. The curtains rustled from the wind next to the window she was looking at. She sat up and looked down, realising finally that she was actually nude. She blinked a couple of times, before realising where she was, why she was like this and </span>
  <em>
    <span>who…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The door of the bedroom creaked softly and a gentleman walked in with a tray with two cups of tea on it. He smiled sheepishly in her direction when he noticed that she was awake. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed the state he was in. His hair was still disheveled, his white boxers the only thing covering his body, giving her a full view of his physique. The white boxers, much to her delight, were patterned with red hearts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Good morning my dear.’’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put the tray off the nightstand before sitting down next to her. She leaned forward and pecked him on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’Good morning.’’ she sighed, the pleasant memories from the night before all coming back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things were starting to look up.</span>
</p>
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